


It’s Okay. It’s Just His Business Partner

by DelilahMcMuffin



Series: Randoms - A Series of Random Prompts [19]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 2 for 1 sale, Bulk jeans, David gets wine-drunk, Falling In Love, It’s definitely not a date, Jukebox Prompt, Just two business partners on a business dinner in a romantic restaurant, Lists!, M/M, Mentions of and consumption of Alka Seltzer, Nothing to see here, Patrick is very sturdy, Slow Burn, So apparently there’s more than one chapter now, They don’t know they’re in love yet. But they are., alexis has t-Rex hands, hangovers, plop plop fizz fizz, that ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24519382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/pseuds/DelilahMcMuffin
Summary: Patrick startles. He hadn’t been that obvious had he? Is it weird to gaze longingly at your business partner over a small, intimate table in a small, intimate restaurant, with mood lighting and soft music playing in the background, in an atmosphere that David himself had called “cozy”?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Randoms - A Series of Random Prompts [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556491
Comments: 52
Kudos: 261
Collections: The Rosebudd Ficlets





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samwhambam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwhambam/gifts), [Elswherefumbling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elswherefumbling/gifts), [RhetoricalQuestions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricalQuestions/gifts), [spiffymittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffymittens/gifts), [yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/gifts).



> From samwhambam’s prompt: The first time Patrick sees David wine-drunk.
> 
> Subsequent chapter(s) are for elswherefumbling, RhetoricalQuestions, spiffymittens and yourbuttervoicedbeau(kiwiana).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Friday night. The store has officially been open for a week. And Patrick wants to celebrate.

It’s Friday night. The store has officially been open for a week. And Patrick wants to celebrate.

The fact that he is angling for any and all excuses to spend just a little more time with David is irrelevant. At least that’s what he tells himself as he gazes across the table at the figure clad head to toe in black. David looks up from topping up their wine glasses and sees that Patrick is watching him. His ears go pink which is both surprising and adorable, and his mouth bunches up into a little knot on the side of his perfect, perfect face.

“What?” David asks softly, setting down the bottle. “Do I...is there something on my face?”

Patrick startles. He hadn’t been that obvious had he? Is it weird to gaze longingly at your business partner over a small, intimate table in a small, intimate restaurant, with mood lighting and soft music playing in the background, in an atmosphere that David himself had called  _ “cozy”? _

“I, um. No. No, there’s nothing wrong with your face, David,” Patrick says. “Your face is—“  _ don’t say perfect. Don’t say perfect. Do not say perfect.  _ “—perfect.”  _ Fuck. _

The pink travels from David’s ears, fanning across his cheeks. He tucks his chin down against his chest, hiding his face from Patrick. “Um...thank you,” he says, his voice barely audible above the quiet din of the other diners.

Patrick clears his throat. “Uh, to our first week,” he says, raising his glass in a toast. 

David raises his own, hesitating before he tentatively clinks his glass against Patrick’s. “To our first week.” They both take a sip and David hums appreciatively, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. Patrick has to scramble to keep his glass from slipping through his fingers, his treacherous body pulsing with unexpected excitement at the sight of David’s pink, wet tongue. 

“Um, just so you know, this isn’t going to become a regular thing,” David says, taking another sip of his wine. As he swallows, Patrick is entranced by the way his Adam’s Apple bobs under the delicate skin of his throat. “Patrick?”

“Hmm?” Patrick asks, eyes slowly moving up David’s throat, over his artfully manscaped stubble, those sharp cheekbones, to a pair of wide dark eyes that Patrick desperately longs to sink into. 

“I just...I just need you to know that we can’t do this again,” David says, and it takes every ounce of self control that Patrick possesses not to shatter into a thousand disappointed pieces. 

“Oh.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as devastated as he feels. “Okay, David.”

“It’s just—“ David barrels on, hands gesturing wildly, his wine dangerously close to sloshing all over the table. “—I think that celebrating little milestones like this, it’s just…it’s asking for trouble, you know?”

Patrick’s dashed hopes slowly begin to reassemble themselves, like the T-1000 in  _ Terminator 2 _ . “Oh?” he asks carefully. “So...it’s the reason behind the night out you object to? N-not the night out itself?”

David shakes his head vehemently. “Oh, God no. This is the nicest place anyone’s taken me to in years, Patrick. Literal years,” David says. “I’d come back here with you again for sure.”

David swirls the wine in his glass before taking another sip, completely unaware that he has broken and subsequently mended Patrick’s heart in under thirty seconds. 

Patrick leans his elbows on the table, his attention too wrapped up in the man across from him to bother with his own wine now. 

* * *

“You’re very sturdy,” David slurs in Patrick’s ear as they wobble toward Patrick’s car. To be fair, David is wobbling enough for the both of them, and Patrick is simply trying to keep him from wobbling his way to a sprained ankle. David’s arm is sprawled across Patrick’s shoulder, and Patrick’s arms are locked tight around David’s waist as he tugs David along the sidewalk. 

“Um...thank you?”

“S’a consonant. Competent. Compliment,” David informs him, his face inches from Patrick’s own. “I like it. You’re like a sturdy little tree.”

“Okay, David,” Patrick chuckles, carefully maneuvering David, propping him up against the side of the car so he can fish the keys out of his pocket. Which is made all the more difficult by the tight fit of his new jeans.  _ Why had he decided to wear his extra tight jeans today? _

“Your jeans are new,” David says, gesturing toward Patrick’s legs. “I like you in your jeans. S’nice.”  _ Ah. That’s why.  _ David jabs at Patrick’s chest with the tip of his finger. “You’re nice. I like you.”

Patrick looks up to see David smiling at him, his lanky frame so unguarded, so loose. Free in a way Patrick has never seen before. He wonders if many people ever get to see David like this, with his defences down. From what he knows of David’s past, he thinks not. Probably Stevie has. Alexis definitely. Patrick is so honoured to be among the elite few with whom David truly lets his guard down.

“Well, I like you too, David,” Patrick says with more honesty than he intends, finally tugging his keys free from the depths of his pocket. 

David smiles, slow and lazy and utterly joyous. He closes his eyes and hums happily. “Mmm...Patrick  _ Brewer…” _ David sighs his name, like it’s a prayer. Or a wish. It makes Patrick’s insides go liquid and he distracts himself by fumbling with his key in the lock.

David is pliant and allows himself to be settled in the front seat. His hands are equal parts alluring and infuriating as he runs them over Patrick’s bare forearms while he struggles to get David buckled in safely. “David!” Patrick gasps exasperatedly when David runs a single finger up his arm, from wrist to elbow. 

David grins at him, pleased. “I like you,” he says again, his dark eyes wide and sincere. “And I like your jeans. But shhhh!—don’t tell Patrick.”

Patrick chuckles, shaking his head. “I won’t.”

David’s eyes droop closed, before flying open again. He grips Patrick’s arm. “Does Patrick like me?”

Patrick smiles softly and runs a soothing hand over David’s fist, clutched tight around his arm. “He does like you, David. Very much.”

A smile so bright it could light a thousand candles flashes across David’s face. He relaxes his grip on Patrick’s arm, lets his eyes close and his head loll back against the headrest. “Good,” he whispers.

Patrick closes the passenger side door and rounds the front of his car, taking several deep, calming breaths. He slides in behind the steering wheel and starts the car. David is already snoring softly beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently there is a chapter 2? And probably at least one more after that. *le sigh* why do I do this to myself?


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You just looked really happy when Patrick dropped you off last night,” she says. “Like, really happy.” She shimmies her shoulders and blinks at him in that way she has, where she thinks she’s winking. “I just thought maybe you and Patrick had...” She lets her voice trail off, her hands dancing excitedly up his arm.
> 
> Or: David wakes up the next morning with a massive hangover. Alexis doesn’t help (but she also kind of does).

_So this is what death feels like._

David’s head is pounding. His mouth tastes like he licked a barroom floor. Like, a nice barroom. A fancy one, like that place he went to that time with Blake Lively. But a barroom nonetheless. 

“Ugh,” he groans from deep within the cocoon of his blankets. He hears giggling coming from somewhere out there, in the general vicinity of the rest of the world. It sounds like his sister. “What?”

“Morning, David,” Alexis trills. He feels his mattress dip and he kicks vaguely in that direction, hoping to dislodge his fucking sister from sitting on his fucking bed.

“Fuck off, Alexis.”

“Oh my God, David!” she squeals, thwacking him with something that might be a purse. It could also be a Buick. Either way it jars David’s already throbbing head and he groans. “I was just bringing you some water and some Alka Seltzer. I know how you get when you’ve had too much wine.”

He hears the familiar  _ plop-plop fizz-fizz  _ of the tablets dropping into a glass of water and sighs. He’s going to have to sit up for this, isn’t he?

It takes a few moments of semi-panicked flailing to find his way out from his cocoon, but he emerges triumphant and a little worse for wear, heaving himself up into something resembling sitting, slouched against his headboard and accepting the fizzling glass from Alexis. “Thanks,” he mutters mulishly, taking a sip of the Alka Seltzer. “Guh.”

“I know it’s gross, David,” Alexis says, patting his leg in a way that he would find patronizing if it wasn’t so comforting. “But drink it all up. You’ll feel better.”

“Hmph,” David huffs, but dutifully chokes back the entire glass, handing it back to Alexis. 

“So...someone had fun last night,” she says, an irritatingly smug little smile on her face. 

“I…” David pauses, stretching and letting out a huge yawn that makes his jaw crack. Alexis is watching him, her blue eyes dancing with amusement. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

She shrugs. “You just looked really happy when Patrick dropped you off last night,” she says. “Like,  _ really _ happy.” She shimmies her shoulders and blinks at him in that way she has, where she thinks she’s winking. “I just thought maybe you and Patrick had...” She lets her voice trail off, her hands dancing excitedly up his arm. 

“Oh my God,” David groans. “Alexis! I  _ told  _ you! We’re just business partners! I don’t...I’m not...he doesn’t…”

Alexis wiggles happily on his bed, one finger reaching out to boop the tip of his nose. “You’re very flustered,” she observes.

_ Why does everyone keep saying that? First Stevie. Now Alexis.  _

“I am not  _ flustered,” _ David informs her, kicking at her hip. She gets up and he flings back his blanket, swinging his legs down and reaching for his Uggs. “I’m just...I need him to stick around. I can’t be scaring him off with all of  _ this.”  _ He gestures down to his entire body as he gets to his feet. His very unsteady feet. Is the room supposed to be spinning like that?

Alexis helps him to sit back down on his bed, curling up beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. “Mkay, it’s just that like, you were talking about him last night. Like  _ a lot. _ ”

Horror struck, David gapes at his sister. “I  _ what?!” _

“Like, I couldn’t quite understand all of it,” Alexis says, clearly enjoying herself. “But something about a tree. And you kept saying  _ ‘that ass’ _ to yourself. It was like, super gross. But like, kind of cute?” She blinks up at him. “I mean, he does have like, the cutest little tushy!”

“Oh my God,” David wails, instantly regretting it. His own voice ricochets loudly in his fragile skull. He cradles his face in his hands. “Did I say any of that to  _ him?” _ he asks quietly, not sure if he wants the answer.

Alexis doesn’t answer. Instead she grins at him and dances her little t-Rex hands up and down his arm before flouncing off to grab her earbuds. 

“Say hi to Patrick for me!” she shoots at him as she’s halfway out the door. She slams the door behind her, and David flings himself back on his bed, wishing for a crack to open up in the floor and swallow him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for yourbuttervoicedbeau(kiwiana), spiffymittens, elswherefumbling and RhetoricalQuestions because they are menaces. And also lovely people and I like making them happy!


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He just...he just likes David so much. As a business partner, and as a friend. He doesn’t want to ruin any of that with this stupid little crush. But he can’t seem to stop himself. He’s always looking for ways to spend more time with David, flirt with David, test the waters to see if maybe—just maybe—David liked him back.

By the time Patrick’s alarm goes off, he’s already awake, staring at the ceiling. He grabs his phone and silences the alarm. He sees a notification in his emails and opens it to find a confirmation from Mark’s Work Wearhouse that his order for 10 new pairs of the jeans David had liked so much has been processed and should arrive in 5-7 business days.

_Fuck._

Patrick drops his phone on the bed beside him and scrubs his hands over his face. He’s so tired. He’d been up into the wee hours of the morning, playing and replaying the events of last night in his head—David’s eyes on him, David saying he liked him, David’s finger stroking his arm—and had finally fallen asleep, only to wake a few short hours later to have the same thoughts plague him again. 

He just...he just likes David so much. As a business partner, and as a friend. He doesn’t want to ruin any of that with this stupid little crush. But he can’t seem to stop himself. He’s always looking for ways to spend more time with David, flirt with David, test the waters to see if maybe—just maybe—David likes him back.

It’s elementary school all over again. But this time, Patrick isn’t watching from the sidelines as his friends pull the pigtails of the girls they like. Patrick had never done that because there had never been someone he liked enough to chase. Until now. And at almost 30 years old, Patrick has absolutely no idea how to go about navigating this situation. Maybe he should just pass David a note: _Do you like Patrick? Yes or No_ and see which answer David circles.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Patrick shoves his blankets aside and heads for the shower. He figures he’ll probably have the store to himself this morning. David is going to be _very_ hung over, and he’s barely coherent before 10am on a normal day. So Patrick will have time to figure out how to broach the subject of last night, see what—if anything—David remembers. And he’ll just...he’ll have to play it by ear.

* * *

The store is relatively quiet, and Patrick sets up his laptop on the counter beside the cash. He’s got a word document open and he’s making a list, because lists are easy to quantify and they help him make decisions.

**Tell David How Much You Like Him**

Pros: 

  * David will know
  * You won’t have to be scared he’ll find out
  * Maybe David will like you back and you will live happily ever after



Patrick frowns and deletes the last bit. It’s too ridiculous. Nobody gets _happily ever after_ in real life.

Pros: 

  * David will know
  * You won’t have to be scared he’ll find out
  * Maybe David will like you back



Cons:

  * David will know
  * Maybe he won’t like you back and you’ll die alone and miserable



_Fuck._ Patrick deletes that last bit. Too dark. 

Cons:

  * David will know
  * Maybe he won’t like you back
  * You’ll be embarrassed
  * Disappointment



Frowning, Patrick rereads the last point. He’s not sure who he’s afraid of disappointing. Not himself. Maybe David? David deserves to have someone witty and charming and devastatingly handsome fall in love with him. Patrick is exactly...none of those things. 

He thinks of his parents and Rachel. Would they be disappointed if they found out he suddenly discovered that he liked men? Surprised maybe. But surely not disappointed. Well, maybe Rachel. He adds a question mark to that point and moves on. 

Cons:

  * David will know
  * Maybe he won’t like you back
  * You’ll be embarrassed
  * Disappointment?
  * Sex



It’s not that Patrick thinks sex is necessarily a con, or that he thinks he wouldn’t be good at sex, or even that he expects David to have sex with him. He would like that, eventually. _Very_ much. Very, _very_ much. But he is also self aware enough to admit that sex for him has always been perfunctory, more of a chore than something he actually enjoys. He has a sneaking suspicion—based solely on the few times that David has touched him, like last night in his car, or when they hugged after their opening night—that sex with someone he is very much attracted to would be more than perfunctory. And it fucking terrifies him. 

The bell above the door jingles and Patrick snaps his laptop closed and looks up to see the man himself standing in the doorway. 

David is carrying two to-go cups and his white-rimmed sunglasses hide his eyes. His hair is teetering a little more to the left than usual and his usually impeccably manicured stubble looks a little more bristly than normal. In short, he looks hungover. 

Patrick can’t help but think that he wears it well. He still looks absolutely perfect.

“Good morning,” Patrick says, smiling at David and placing one hand protectively on his laptop. He makes a mental note to password protect the list he’d been working on. The last thing he wants is for David or anyone else to find it accidentally. 

David grunts a greeting at him and sets one of the cups down on the counter beside Patrick’s laptop, reaching out a long, elegant finger to carefully nudge a lip balm back into formation in the display in front of the cash.

“I, um…” David begins, his voice rough and about an octave lower than his usual register. It sends a thrum of pleasure rippling under Patrick’s skin. David clears his throat. “Some things may have been said last night,” he says, his attention focused on the cup in his hands, “that were marginally unprofessional. And, um…”

“Oh? Really?” Patrick can’t keep the grin off his face. “Just _marginally?”_

David looks up at him from behind his sunglasses. “Well, I’m hardly to blame,” he says loftily. “Those jeans were very tight and…and I’m only human!”

 _David liked his jeans._ Patrick can feel the flush creeping its way up his neck, over his cheeks, until his ears are burning and the back of his neck is very sweaty. He is suddenly not at all upset about his late night shopping binge. 5-7 business days suddenly seems like an awfully long time to wait. 

“Well, they are Mark’s Work Wearhouse’s number one bestseller,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing when David visibly blanches. Patrick can’t help going in for the kill. “And they were on sale. 2 for 1!”

David scrunches up his face, whether in amusement or extreme offence, Patrick can’t quite tell. “Yes. Well...I’ll have to send them a card.” _Ah. Amusement, then._ David takes a tentative sip of his coffee and then pulls his sunglasses from his face. Dark circles bruise the delicate skin beneath his red-rimmed eyes. He delicately pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes, his forehead furrowed. “Um...I am sorry, though. If I was…” With a sigh, David gestures feebly at himself. “I can be too much, especially when there’s wine involved. And I...I understand if you can’t...if you don’t want…” He trails off, staring forlornly at a spot on the counter. 

“Whoa, hey!” Patrick rounds the counter and takes David gently by the shoulders. “David, no. That’s...please don’t apologize. I had fun last night. _We_ had fun, right?”

“I did. W-we did.”

“Okay. So no more of that kind of talk. Okay?” David just stares back at him, his face still lined with worry. Patrick gives him a gentle shake. “Okay?”

“Okay.” David’s voice is so soft, Patrick has to strain to hear him over the soft jazz floating through the speakers. 

“Good.” Patrick gives his shoulders a little squeeze. He wants to hug David—he looks like he could use a hug—but maybe right now isn't the right time. Instead he grabs his tea and his laptop, and heads for the back room. “Um, I’m just going to work in the back for a little while. You’ll be okay up here?”

“I’ll be fine.” David rounds the counter and tucks his bag onto the bottom shelf below the cash. Patrick watches as David slumps forward on his elbows, leaning over the counter, his head in his hands, letting out a soft sigh.

“Hey David?” Patrick asks, causing David to jump. He spins around to look at Patrick, all wide surprised eyes and full lips and Patrick just wants to kiss him. To hold him. To tell him all the things he feels when he thinks about him. But he can’t. He’s not ready. Not quite yet. So he goes for something he knows will make David smile. Pulls his pigtails a little. Just because he can. “I’m just a boy, standing in front of another boy, asking him to restock the body milk.”

David scowls at him, and Patrick is still laughing when he sits down at the desk in the back. He sets down his laptop and waits, listening. He can hear David moving around out front, the gentle tinkle of glass bottles moving against each other as David sets them out.

Opening his laptop, Patrick stares at his list, thinking. He selects the whole thing and hits _delete_. He sips his tea, staring at the blank document. Then he starts to type a new list.

**How to Tell David I Like Him:**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to samwhambam for the prompt. And for all the flailing from my pals at The Rosebudd.
> 
> I realize I have other WIPs that people are waiting on, and they’re coming. But they’re doing so at their own pace. These little prompts give me a chance to stretch and flex my writing muscles, take a break from stories that are frustrating me, and have some fun. I hope you enjoy them too.
> 
> The world is a dark place right now, so please feel free to shine a little light my way by pressing kudos or leaving a comment if you liked what you’ve read. And then come say hi on Tumblr @delilah-mcmuffin
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> D McM


End file.
